Take What You Want

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Authors: Ann Lister

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TAKE WHAT YOU WANT

by Ann Lister

TAKE WHAT YOU WANT

Copyright
©
2013 by Ann Lister

All rights reserved.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are
either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
actual events or locations other than public venues is entirely
coincidental.

This book is a product
of the SleighFarm Publishing Group.

Acknowledgments
and Dedication

I have so many people to thank
for keeping me inspired with new ideas and motivated to work my craft
on a daily basis. Without each of them, I'm not sure I'd be where I
am today with this process.

I also want to give a special
thank you the many new friendships I have established with this
series, The Rock Gods.

I can not thank you people
enough!!

Denise Sprung from Shh, Mom's
Reading, Brenda Wright of TwinsieTalk Book Reviews,

Scott Burkett of GGR-Reviews,

Jessica Johnson from BookEnd 2
BookEnd

and
Tammy Middleton of Tam's Two Cents.

I have a few other special blog
friends I'd like to thank for their help and support, too.

The O'Raven Chronicles, On My
Shelves, Cathy Brockman, Dirty Book & Dirty Boys, I Pimp My
Authors, Dawn Martens' Blog, AO Bibliosphere, Book Addict Mumma,
Becca Ann's Reviews,

Swoon
Worthy Reads, Smitten's Book Blog, Crystal's Many Reviews, and Rocker
& Biker Romance.

I
am eternally grateful for knowing each and every one of you!!

I thank my family and friends;
especially my amazing husband, Bob.

You all rock my world every day!

And, Frank, your continued
support on this journey is unrelenting and I appreciate you in more
ways than I can begin to express. Thanks for pushing me to give my
best!

To
all my faithful readers, I thank you for allowing me to share my
stories with you! Your support is much appreciated and never
forgotten!!

Thank
you, Antonio Zerpa! Your friendship was a breath of fresh air and I
thank you for all your 'technical support' and helping me to make
this story
real
!

~ ~ ~ ~

Extra Special Thanks:

Special Technical Advisor:
Antonio Zerpa

Cover Art Design: Kari Ayasha

Cover Photograph: K. Keeton
Designs

Interior Formatting and Editing:
Franklyn Sledd

Scheduled
Books in the Rock Gods Series:

Fall For Me ~ Spring 2013

Take What You Want ~ Fall 2013

Make You Mine ~ Spring 2014

Wanting
It All ~ Fall 2014

Other
Titles by Ann Lister:

Sheet Music: A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story ~ 2009

For All The Right Reasons ~ 2010

Without A Doubt ~ 2011

An Early Spring ~ 2012

Covered In Lace: The Lacey Sheridan Story ~ 2012

Fall For Me: Book One, The Rock Gods series ~ 2013

Prologue

Final
leg of their world tour, South America …

Zander
Metcalf, lead singer and guitarist for his rock band Ivory Tower
approached his bass player, Mick Wheland on stage at their latest
venue, an outside stadium in Lima, Peru. Zander was sweaty and
exhausted after a ninety minute show to fifty thousand cheering fans.
The white silk, button-down shirt he wore was soaked through from
perspiration and clung to his muscled chest, his black jeans much the
same; hugging his strong legs like a rubber wetsuit. All that
remained to their set was one final encore and they could get their
asses back to the hotel for some much needed rest.

The stage lights dimmed,
leaving one lone spotlight illuminating Zander and Wheland at center
stage. Zander draped an arm around Wheland's broad shoulders; his
hand squeezing the tight knot of muscle. They looked close enough in
appearance for many to believe they were brothers; both with dark
blond hair and lean muscled physiques and rugged good looks. Even
their ages were close together, with Zander beating Wheland to the
thirty year bench mark by a meager nine months. Even still, Wheland
never missed an opportunity to remind Zander of that detail.


Make
It Hurt,” Zander said into Wheland's ear, directing Wheland to
begin the next song.

Blue
and red lights bathed Wheland in a purple-hued glow as he began the
eight bar intro of dramatic, thrumming notes on his bass guitar.
More lights hit Cooper Rand, their drummer. Cooper lifted his
drumsticks skyward then slammed them down on his drum skins and, just
like that, the stage exploded again in sound.

Zander
took his Gibson guitar from the technician and stepped toward the
microphone waiting for him at center stage. He tipped the head of it
toward his mouth and came in on cue with the emotionally charged
lyrics to this Ivory Tower classic:

Tear
me down. Break me. Watch me bleed.

You claim no fault, yet
sure know how to …

Make it hurt.

Walk
away. Leave me. See me cry.

I stand alone and wonder
why you …

Make
it hurt.

-0-

After
the show, Zander did a backstage meet and greet with several dozen
fans and a scheduled interview with a local radio station, then he
was finally able to head to his hotel suite. He couldn't wait to
shed his stage clothes and slip back into simply being Alex.

He
made a major effort to keep his stage persona separate from his
off-stage personality. Years of performing and a secretive lifestyle
made that necessary. He'd seen firsthand the kind of damage caused
when those two very different worlds merged. Most recently with his
musician friend, Dagger Drummond, when Dagger's sexuality was outed
in the press. Lately he'd seen the lines separating his own private
and public lives becoming more and more blurred, too.

A
few more weeks remained to this final leg of their world tour and
they could all go home for a nice long vacation. He'd recently
finalized a rental agreement for a private ocean-side estate on an
island off the coast of Massachusetts. He was counting down the days
to being able to disappear for a good long stretch to write some new
music, and relax.

Christ! The simple
pleasures that came along with relaxing. He'd forgotten what it was
like.

He
came up short in the hotel suite living room when he saw his manager
standing there. He was hoping for a shower, sleep, and some solitude
– in that order, before having to hit the road in the morning
for the next show. Meeting with his manager was nowhere on his to-do
list.


What
the fuck are you doing in here?” Alex asked Derick Adler, his
manager for the last seven years.


Have
you seen this?” Derick asked, handing Alex the Music Spin
magazine he'd been holding when Alex came into the room.

Alex
took the magazine and looked at the cover. A large grainy photograph
of him sitting on a couch with his runway model girlfriend, Mia,
straddling his lap, while he was kissing a man seated beside him.


Who's
the guy?” Derick asked.


Does
it matter?” Alex asked.


The
article inside says it's that English prick from Music Spin,
Sebastian something-or-other; the same prick that outed Dagger
Drummond and Ryan Pierce,” Derick said.


That'd
be him,” Alex sighed. “That picture is old, Derick. It
was taken back when Sebastian wrote the story about Dagger. I dumped
him right after that and strongly suggested he think twice before
writing an article about me and him. I guess my threats didn't scare
him enough.”


Revenge
is a bitter bitch,” Derick said.


Has
this hit the shelves yet?” Alex asked, tossing the magazine
onto a nearby coffee table with a loud slapping sound.


Yep,
yesterday. I had the pleasure of reading it a couple of hours ago,”
Derick said, “you know, so I can plot out our plan for damage
control.”

Alex
sat down in a chair and ran his fingers through his long dark blond
hair, pushing it behind his ears. “Fuck,” he sighed,
elongating the word. “I need to call Mia.”


Don't
bother,” Derick said. “She already knows.”


She's
seen this?” Alex asked, already feeling a headache coming on
from the conversation he knew was coming with his girlfriend.


She's
the one who brought it to my attention,” Derick said. “She's
got a photo shoot in Paris and may have already left.”


Shit,”
Alex said. He slouched in the chair and dropped his head to rest on
the back of it, staring at the stucco plastered ceiling. “I've
got to go to her.”


No.
Fucking. Way.” Derick spit out each word with anger. “You
have a tour to finish. Then you can go kiss her ass – but not
before!”

Alex
stood up quickly from the chair. “Fine! Then, get the fuck
out, so I can call her,” Alex said. He pulled his cell from
his pants pocket and hit the speed dial button to connect with her,
then walked into the bedroom; slamming the door behind him.


Baby,
how are you?” Alex asked Mia when she answered her phone.


How
do you think I'm doing?” Mia asked.

The stern tone in her voice
sent a shiver down Alex's spine. “I'm guessing you're
pissed-off.”


Among
other emotions I'm feeling, yes, that would be one of them,”
Mia said.


I'm
so sorry, baby.”


And,
I'm sorry, too, because I can't do this anymore, Alex.”

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